


the memory of our friendship

by Sanna_Black_Slytherin



Series: The Other 51 [7]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aromantic Newt Scamander, Asexual Character, Asexual Newt Scamander, Asexuality, Banter, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts vs Ilvermorny, Humor, Implied Dumbledore/Grindelwald, Misunderstandings, NaNoWriMo, Newt is a cinnamon roll and needs to be protected, Newt returns to New York, Post-Fantastic Beasts, Spoilers for Fantastic Beasts, Various magical beasts, even though he is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 21:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8595046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanna_Black_Slytherin/pseuds/Sanna_Black_Slytherin
Summary: After finishing his book, Newt Scamander returns to New York to catch up with the Goldstein sisters. He has a few surprises waiting for him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You know how nobody was sure whether this movie would work out? Like, it was either going to be a total hit or a complete flop? Well. It's not a flop. It feels like listening to _Hamilton_ for the first time.
> 
> Also, I'm not making most of this up. It's right there for you to read on Pottermore or PotterWiki or in _Fantastic Beasts_. I did tweak Professor Dippet's timeline a bit, since I couldn't find a headmaster prior to him.

Porpentina Goldstein stood on the quay, watching as the steamship docked and the gangplank was connected to the ship. People began disembarking as soon as the officer on land gave the all-clear, no doubt wanting to experience the fabled New World. She huffed quietly at the thought. It wasn't anything special, really, New York City. Yes, it was her home, but chance could have dictated that she had been born somewhere else, and it would not have made a difference.

The passengers were directed to customs, staffed entirely with No-Maj guards. Tina thought that maybe some of the mess that was Newt's first visit to New York could have been avoided if there had also been wizarding guards who made sure that no illegal substances or beasts were brought into the country. Or, she acknowledged, the situation could have ended much, much worse. Grindelwald could have rendered the Statute of Secrecy obsolete, could have exposed the wizarding world, which would have had consequences too terrible to even contemplate. Newt could have failed to free his Thunderbird.

She shook her head to eradicate her thoughts. There was no point in going through all the 'what if' scenarios. _Kaiidth_ , her grandmother used to say. What is, is, and nothing else.

She finally spotted a familiar chestnut-haired figure among the crowd. Newt Scamander, his trademark suitcase in hand, was coming ashore. When he saw her, he waved enthusiastically, and she waved back with a smile. He hurried through customs, then hurried to her. They hugged briefly and exchanged polite greetings. She said that Queenie was making them dinner, and that Jacob promised that he would bake a dragon-formed pastry.

Newt bit on his lip. “Which dragon?” he asked.

Tina let out a laugh, because that was such a _Newt_ question to ask, and replied that she was not familiar enough with dragons to be able to determine its species.

In the meantime, Newt had the time to process the implications of Tina's off-hand remark. “Has Jacob regained his memories?” he asked with concern. “Has anyone else?”

Tina patted his shoulder. “If you are worrying about a breach in the Statute of Secrecy, you can stop now. We have checked, and nobody else seems to have retained their memories.”

“So he never forgot to begin with?” Newt blinked. “What an extraordinarily Muggle,” he murmured.

She smiled. “No, he did forget. But Queenie was a little too fond of him, and eventually returned to him his memories of magic.”

“Does MADUSA know?”

“Aren't you inquisitive today,” Tina said with a chuckle. “No, they do not, and we intend to keep it that way.”

Newt shrugged, now sporting that endearing grin of his. “Well, the last time I arrived here in New York, I was arrested twice for not being familiar with your customs and laws,” he teased. “So, what did I miss?” he spread out his hands as if to indicate the city.

Tina beamed. “We have so much to tell you,” she said excitedly. “You would _not_ believe what has been going on here.”

“I have seen some quite unbelievable things during my travels, so I hardly think that a bit of American politics is going to shock me,” Newt deadpanned.

“Speaking of that, I expect a full account of your adventures,” Tina poked him in his chest. “But first, do you have a wand permit this time?”

“I still have my old one, but that is about it,” Newt shrugged. “Why do you all insist on wand permits, anyway?”

“Well, wands are extremely carefully monitored here in America,” Tina explained, “because of Rappaport's law. You probably know this, but if you are a minor, you are not allowed to carry a wand outside of school. This is why you need to prove that you underwent an education, and are, therefore, a responsible adult.”

“But I was expelled form Hogwarts,” Newt felt the need to point out, though he wasn't sure if this wasn't one of those times where it was better to be quiet than to reveal too much. “Besides, I am not sure I qualify as a responsible adult.”

“That may be true, but you are a tourist. In your country, you do not need to finish your education to own a wand, so MACUSA assumes that you know how to handle a wand. Which reminds me—I thought that Hogwarts snapped the wands of expelled students?” Tina posed the statement as a question.

Newt looked anywhere but at Tina. “Yes, well, Dumbledore intervened on my behalf. He argued that I have to be able to defend myself during those turbulent times.”

Tina bowed her head in acknowledgement. “Unfortunately, a very accurate assessment. Now, do you intend to stand here all day, or can we Apparate?”

Newt grinned and offered his elbow. “By all means, lead the way.”

* * *

Besides the standard greetings, during which Newt all but started bouncing at the sight of Jacob Kowalski, the four friends ate the meal in silence, They did not start talking until Jacob had left to retrieve the desserts, which he had stored in a box that Queenie had charmed to keep cool regardless of the temperature on the exterior. Tina offered Queenie and Newt a cup of tea, which they accepted. Newt dug out two copies of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , and gave them to the Goldstein sisters. He apologized for not bringing a third copy for Jacob, since he was not aware that Jacob remembered the magical world. Jacob responded that it was fine, really, and he could just share with Queenie. Neither seemed to mind the arrangement.

Queenie was telling them a story about her co-worker and office clown, who requested her help that same day. “He wanted me to help him move some furniture from his office that he did not want—and isn't that just typical? Yet, when I stopped by, he began to yell at me because I have not come earlier and said, and I quote: 'Oh, these things have been here for _ages_. I haven't been able to do anything. I was so close to throwing them away'. And then, after a while, he added: 'This table was the first one my grandpa made, so be careful with it, because I will need it later'. So obviously, I asked him: 'Didn't you say you wanted to throw it away?' He just stared angrily at me, and it was the funniest moment this entire week.

“And he dug out some quilts to protect the table, and went: 'These were my grandpa's, too', and I replied: 'Do you want me to be careful with those too?' He continued to stare at me.”

Newt laughed. Tina took a second to bask in how musical his voice sounded. “It certainly sounds as though you have had a busy day.”

Queenie waved her wand, and the dishes begun cleaning themselves. “Actually, this is one of the calmer days. Usually, it's much more hectic. I can barely catch a break before I have to dash somewhere because some idiot locked himself in one of those spell-proof closets. When I signed up for Wand Permit Office, I thought that I would be dealing with tourists and immigrants and generally clueless idiots. In reality, I almost only deal with the latter, and not for the reason I had thought I would be.”

“Really?” Newt sounded interested. “What did you initially want to do in MACUSA?”

“I was one of the countless witches who dreamt that one day, they would become part of MACUSA's elite—help catch bad wizards and so on.” Queenie sighed. “As it turns out, that did not pan out.”

Tina levitated her a cup of tea, and offered another to Newt, who accepted graciously. “Now, don't be hard on yourself, Queenie. Besides,” she chirped, “what with all the changes in MACUSA, I do not doubt that you will find an opportunity to find a position that is more suited to your talents.”

Newt sipped at the tea, considering Tina's words. “Is MACUSA changing?” he asked finally. “For the better, I hope.”

Tina perked up. “Yes, it is certainly improving. As you know, I got my job back,” she said, then considered Stunning herself. She was making such a fool out of herself. She thought that she had gotten over this ridiculous crush on her British friend, but apparently the jury was still out on that one. “There has been a lot of debacles in MACUSA. After that near-miss with Credence and the Obscurus, President Picquery is pushing for change. They're actually considering repealing Rappaport's Law,” she said brightly.

Newt frowned. “It is the law that keeps you folks segregated from the Muggles, is it not?”

“Muggles?” Queenie frowned, cuddled up next to Jacob on the sofa. She sipped her tea.

“That's what the British call No-Majs,” Tina clarified. “And yes, that's the one. They are discussing whether a gradual immersion into the No-Maj culture and society would not serve our society better in the long term. We would be more well-equipped to deal with any backlash of a breach of Statute of Secrecy that way. Of course, there are still traditionalists who believe that we should not have anything to do with No-Majs and who cite the Twelvetrees incident as proof of why we need Rappaport's Law, but the majority of MACUSA seems to at least be considering the proposal, so at least that's good, and Mercy Lewis, I've been rambling again, haven't I?” she tried to smile, but it came out sheepish.

Queenie grinned. “I'm afraid so, Teeny,” she commented cheekily.

Newt smiled that adorable smile of his. It lit up the entire room, Tina thought absentmindedly. “No, by all means, continue. I like listening to you,” he complimented, seeming oblivious to the fact that he made Tina blush scarlet.

Abruptly, Queenie stood up. “What's taking him so long?” she muttered, leaving the room in search of her Jacob. A lull in conversation ensued, and Newt and Tina sat in silence for several moments. Just as the prolonged silence began to border on awkward, Tina leaned forward, sipping at her cup of tea. “So,” she cleared her throat, “did you have any adventures of a _different_ nature?” she asked delicately, trying to sound unconcerned by the answer.

Newt tilted his head bemusedly. “Well, I did have a fair amount of run-ins with dragons in south Europe, and there was this one pixie clan that just _would not_ let me leave their forest, but other than that—“

Tina rolled her eyes. Leave it to Newt, normally so astute, to be completely oblivious as to her meaning. She decided to be direct. “Did you find a girlfriend?” she interrupted Newt's anecdote about a Russian poltergeist who was cursed to henceforth haunt a crumbling hut in the middle of nowhere, and who complained about the lack of a social life.

Newt blinked at Tina's question. He looked away. “Er—no, not really,” he stammered. “Girls aren't really my forte,” he admitted, though he could not hide the slight flush that covered his face.

Tina's eyes widened in realization. So he was one of _those_ wizards. Rumour had it that Hogwarts' Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore also preferred men to the fairer gender. There was also another rumour circulating concerning him and Gellert Grindelwald, but she did not subscribe to that one; she found it impossible to believe that anyone would love that monster. “Oh sorry,” she said gently, rethinking her first impression of Newt. He seemed completely normal; there was nothing about him that would even imply he preferred sleeping with men. Then again, she supposed that was what one got for assuming. Her already abysmal chances with her crush just took a vertical plunge into a pit of hopelessness. “Any, er, nice gentlemen, mayhaps?” she asked in an attempt to alleviate the awkwardness. She had no idea how one went about discussing such matters in polite company, much less with a person whom she had known face-to-face for a total of one day. She hoped that she breached the subject politely and did not offend him. Were there certain rules, certain phrases one had to use? She hoped not.

His eyes widened as he finally understood her meaning. “Oh no! No, no, _no_ , Tina,” he exclaimed, “I'm afraid you must have misunderstood me,” he hastened to clarify. “I do not swing that way either, really. I much prefer magical beasts,” he scratched his neck.

“What about Leta Lestrange?” Tina asked, trying to mask the jealousy in her voice. She had been curious about this mysterious woman since Queenie had told her about the photograph in Newt's suitcase-turned-laboratory-turned-zoo. She had tried to ask him once before, but he had brushed her off, his mind already on the next beast he had to save from MACUSA. Maybe she would get an unequivocal answer this time.

“What? No, there was never anything between us,” Newt said, blushing furiously. He ducked his head, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the discussion. “I mean, I loved her. We were the outcasts—neither of us really fit in at Hogwarts, let alone in our Houses. But we were not _in love_.”

“I see,” Tina said, and she thought that maybe she did understand. “You said that you were expelled from Hogwarts,” she said and immediately wanted to wince at the blunt subject change. From one potentially insulting subject to another. _Way to go, Tina._

Newt nodded. “Yes. There was an accident involving a Demiguise—yes, that same Demiguise that escaped last time I was here,” he smiled self-deprecatingly. “While we are on the subject, I can't believe that the Ministry—I mean the British Ministry of Magic,” he elaborated, seeing Tina's confusion, “classifies Demiguises as a class XXXX-creature. They are harmless and feed on plants. They frankly just want to be left alone, but their pelts are highly-sought-after, since the hair is used to spin Invisibility Cloaks. But I'm getting off-subject again, aren't I? In any case, the headmaster said that I had unnecessarily endangered a student. Professor Dumbledore took my side, but Dippet would not listen to Dumbledore, citing favouritism. Dippet is a disciplinarian, you see,” he explained. Newt's voice had lost that cheerful quality, but he did not seem to mind talking about his past as long as Tina did not breach the subject of Leta Lestrange again. “He believes in harsh punishment. In all fairness though, Professor Dippet does truly care about his students,” Newt contemplated, ever-so-eager to find the best in people.

Tina's lips curled up into a involuntary smile. “What made you such a favourite of Dumbledore's that he would personally defend you to Dippet?” she asked.

There was a popping sound, and a voice replied, “What makes our dear Newt everyone's darling? His endearing demeanour, of course,” Queenie said with a pearly laugh. “Look at whom I found,” she gestured to Jacob, who was holding two trays full of cinnamon-flavoured dragon pastries.

He put one tray between Newt and Tina's armchairs, and placed the other one on the coffee table in front of the couch, where he and Queenie then settled and cuddled up with each other. Newt tore away his eyes, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with seeing so much affection. He grabbed one pastry and bit into it to distract himself from the couple on the couch.

“Are the Second Salemers still active?” he asked, changing the subject. If it was anyone else, the tone of voice would be disgusted, but Newt seemed to be unable to show any negative emotions—baring that one time he shouted at the MACUSA officials for mindlessly killing Credence, but even that episode lasted only a few seconds at most.

Tina scowled. “Yes, unfortunately.” She slouched in her armchair. It was not fitting behaviour for a lady, especially not when entertaining guests, but she could not help herself. It was her default reaction to any mention of that heinous group of No-Majs. “We want to stop them, but our hands are tied. We do not have the right to Obliviate them, because they do not technically know of our world; we cannot punish them, because that breaks Rappaport's of no-interference; and we can't reveal magic and teach them that it's not the evil they think it to be, because that'd be breaking the Statute of Secrecy and potentially endangering all wizards nationwide. It sucks,” she sighed.

“And that's not the only thing that isn't all flowers and sunshine,” Queenie continued. “As you must have heard at this point, Grindelwald has escaped.”

Tina nodded her head in accession. “Mere weeks ago. The guards said he had been talking all about his cause and 'the greater good' and how he needed to find the wand, whatever that meant. President Picquery has already talked to your former headmaster about this. He seemed concerned but not surprised, almost as if he knew what was going to happen and had been expecting it.”

“He tends to have that air of omniscience,” Newt agreed. “It does not mean that he isn't on our side.”

“I was not implying any such thing,” Tina defended herself. “I'm just saying that he is very tight-lipped for someone whose opinions everybody respects.”

“He speaks up when it matters and chooses his battles. That's why he is such a great person, and a good addition to Hogwarts.”

Queenie grinned sharply. “Oh, really?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Tina groaned. “Please don't tell me this going to turn into another Ilvermorny vs Hogwarts argument.”

Queenie nudged her shoulder. “I would, but mother taught us not to lie.”

“And that's been working out so great for us,” Tina muttered sarcastically.

Queenie ignored Tina in favour of Newt. “But honestly, Newt, how can you honestly believe that Hogwarts is superior to Ilvermorny when it is obvious that it is, in fact, the other way around?”

“Sister,” Tina chided. “You are just inciting needless arguments.”

Newt and Queenie ignored her. “Hogwarts is a sentient castle. You can't beat that.”

“Actually,” Queenie raised a finger, “I can and I will. Ilvermorny is situated at the peak of the highest mountain in Massachusetts.”

“Your school is a cheap copy of Hogwarts. Literally. Your founders, two of which were children, may I add, literally said 'well, let's make a Hogwarts of our own here in America'. They even borrowed the idea of the four houses. We had the idea first.”

“We made it _better_. Ilvermorny also has the reputation of being one of the most democratic, least elitist of all the great wizarding schools.”

Newt was silent for a long moment.

"Well," he said finally, "we have a giant squid in our lake. And centaurs in our forest. And werewolves. And Acromantulas, would you believe that?” Newt continued excitedly. “And we have ghosts—do you have ghosts?” he asked Tina and Queenie, who both shook their heads. “Well, we have ghosts that each correspond to our House. The Fat Friar is the ghost of Hufflepuff, which was my House. He died quite an unnecessary death, really—not that I'm saying that other deaths are necessary, per se, but his was inordinately gratuitous and completely avoidable. You see, he was executed in 1545 when a churchman became suspicious of how he was able to cure people of all kinds of illnesses simply by poking them with a stick. In accordance with the Muggle logic of that time, it was judged that he should be burned at the stake for his sins. Of course, the Friar did not let something as trivial as death stop him from helping others, and he is now our resident Hufflepuff ghost. He is really the nicest person one could speak to—or, well, not a person exactly, but calling him a spectre feels inadequate, and he is not merely a soul, so I am afraid I am at a loss about what to categorize him as, metaphysically speaking.”

Newt then went off on a tangent about Kappas and how their natural habitat in Japan affected their evolution. Tina tuned out after a minute, and spent her time studying Newt. He had changed—his face had sharper characteristics, his hair was longer (almost, no, _certainly_ , as if he had forgotten to cut it, in between running around and studying all different sorts of magical creatures), and he had acquired a new coat. Tina assumed that the old one had become an unfortunate casualty of an encounter with a more dangerous beast. Newt's eyes were still as clear-blue as ever, and his brown hair still shone red every time the light hit it _just right_. His freckles moved every time he talked. Tina took it upon herself to count them.

“Oh, and on the subject of Hogwarts, we have a Trolley Lady, who is really friendly, by the way, as long as you don't try to leave the train. Believe me, I have seen people try to leave, and it doesn't end well for them,” Newt winced at the memory.

Queenie finally interrupted Newt. “Isn't your headmaster ancient?” she itched to know. She had hear a rumour circulating about the true age of the Hogwarts headmaster, but she had never found any reliable sources to confirm or deny it. Well, until now.

Newt grinned. “Actually, yes. Professor Dippet was born somewhere during the 17th century, but he has only become headmaster 1904, when Professor Oxenstar retired to tend to his flower garden during his waning years, as he put it. What is unique about Professor Dippet is that he never held a teaching position before being offered the headmastership. It simply goes on to show just how much respect he has gathered during his lifetime among his fellow wizards.”

Tina blinked. “Do you know this much about everything?” she asked amusedly. Newt Scamander gave the impression of being knowledgeable about every topic, whether it was an obscure beast, old and new headmasters, or the effects of relations with No-Majs on the Statute of Secrecy. The only topic the magizoologist was not well-versed in was American magical law, as evidenced by his first visit to New York City.

Newt shrugged. “I tend to pick up information fairly quickly. I once spent three hours with our local wandmaster, Garrick Ollivander, trying to find a wand for me, and learned quite a lot about wandmaking in the process. After Ollivander was forced to abandon his usual wand cores, we finally found a thirteen inches lime wand, with a of thunderbird feathers and elements of bone, with a shell at the end of the wand,” he called his wand to his hand to present it to his audience. “Very flexible,” he demonstrated his wand's flexibility, then put it away again.

Jacob, who had hitherto been silently following the conversation, occasionally squeezing Queenie's hand, looked like he wanted to ask follow-up questions. What was worse, Newt seemed to be ready to answer them, probably by giving a lecture about the importance of wand wood and cores. Tina and Queenie exchanged glances, because, while undoubtedly important, that particular lecture would bore them all to sleep. They came to a silent agreement.

Tina stood up. “Jacob, would you mind helping me with a desert?” she inquired, interrupting whatever Jacob had been meaning to ask. “I need to thank a co-worker for a favour, and she mentioned that she liked toffee cookies.”

Jacob perked up. “Sure!” his gaze fell on Newt. He looked back to Tina. “But we have a guest,” he pointed out, as if Tina had missed a crucial fact.

Tina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I am sure that my sister will prove to be adequate company for him for a few moments,” the look she gave Queenie said that she better be. Queenie quirked her lip in return.

Tina and Jacob disappeared with a pop, leaving Queenie alone with Newt. His sharp eyes zeroed in on her. She felt his scrutiny, and blurted out the first question that came to her mind. “What's your favourite beast?”

Newt blinked and leaned forward in his armchair. “I know that I shouldn't pick favourites because it's like picking a favourite child and you shouldn't do that because it is unfair to everyone else, but I'm really fond of Picket. You know, the Bowtruckle,” he reminded her. As if she could forget the ever-present Bowtruckle on his shoulder, who, even now, crept out of its hiding place in his coat collar and stood on Newt's fingers.

Queenie took up Newt's book and started to leaf through it. A comfortable silence ensued—Queenie was reading Newt's book while Newt seemed to be lost in thoughts, his mind somewhere far away. Queenie frowned as she came to the section about basilisks. She read it, then looked up at Newt. “How did you write that section on basilisks?” she pointed at the book.

Newt started and took a few seconds to register Queenie's question. He grinned.”You wouldn't believe it, but I actually met the ghost of Salazar Slytherin in my travels,” he said cheerfully. “He was most helpful in ascertaining the anatomy of a basilisk, though he denied ever building the infamous Chamber of Secrets, which is another of Hogwarts' legends that we have no proof of,” he clarified. “He was a nice fellow, really, if a bit too eager to blame everything on Muggles. Very clever, too.”

“What are some other Hogwarts legends?”

“I obviously cannot tell you every last one of them, because one, I myself don't know all of them, and two, we would be here until next week if I was to tell you about the ones that I do know,” of that, Queenie had no doubt. “But there is a myth that there is a hidden platform in Hogsmeade, just as Platform 9 ¾ is in London, that goes directly to Beauxbatons. I don't dismiss this rumour because most wizards in London are well aware that there is, for example, a Platform 7 ½ that goes to wizard-only villages in Europe, so Platform 9 ¾ is not unique. Why, then, shouldn't there be a hidden platform in Hogsmeade, the only wizard-only village in Great Britain?” he gesticulated with the hand not holding Picket to emphasize his words. He talked faster the more excited he got, and his accent was starting to really show.

“Ooh!” Queenie exclaimed suddenly. “I forgot to tell you last time, but you've got this absolutely adorable accent,” she remarked casually.

Newt bit his lip uncomfortably. “Thank you,” he finally said, at a loss how to respond to that compliment.

Queenie frowned. “I've made you uncomfortable,” it was a statement rather than a question. “Why?”

Newt shrugged. “I suppose that romance, and everything that goes with it, is not anything I have spent my time thinking about. I would rather use that time to tend to my beasts,” he seemed to find the subject vexatious.

“But you _have_ considered it at some point?” Queenie persisted. Sometimes it infuriated her that she could only get glimpses from his mind, as opposed to the precise thoughts she could glean from every other person in her surroundings. It alerted her to the degree of just how much she relied on her Legilimency to comprehend others.

“To be honest, no, I have not,” Newt replied frankly.

“Huh,” Queen leaned back to consider the man in front of her. “You really are something special, Newt Scamander. Never have I met a man who was altogether uninterested by a woman's body. Or a man's,” she added as an afterthought. “I don't judge.”

Newt reddened. He seemed to be doing that a lot since coming to New York. “I have just had a similar conversation with your sister.”

“She is a tad prudish, isn't she?” Queenie grinned. “Although, she is clearly downright vulgar compared to you. You are a virgin, am I correct?” her teeth glinted in the light from the candles.

Newt's blush deepened, but before he could reply, a light voice said, “Hey, Queenie! That's personal, and you know it,” Tina crossed her arms disapprovingly.

Queenie smirked. “Come, now, sister, are you not in the least bit curious?” she looked back at Newt. “So there has been no pretty lady for you, then? No ravishing gentleman?” she teased.

Newt started to play with Picket. He did not seem conscious of what he was doing. “No. Girlfriends, boyfriends—well, they aren't really my thing.”

Tina reclaimed the other armchair, while Jacob took a seat on the couch beside Queenie, who instantly adjusted her posture to fit him.

“How are the toffee cookies faring?” Newt asked in an effort to divert the conversation away from his personal life.

“Good, good,” Jacob nodded vigorously. “They should be ready in about half an hour. Of course, with magic,” he cast an appreciative smile at Tina, “it is more like ten minutes.”

“You know, I never caught your full name,” Queenie mused.

Newt blushed. “Don't laugh,” he warned.

“We won't,” Tina assured him.

“Newtonartemisfidoscamander,” Newt said quickly.

Queenie blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Newt took a deep breath, as if calming himself. “Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.”

"Why would your mother name you after _Artemis_?” Tina asked. "Wouldn't it be more logical to name you after Actaeon?”

Newt shrugged. “I never quite understood my mother or her fascination with Hippogriffs,” he admitted.

“Like mother, like son.”

“True, at least if you consider our Patroni.”

“Really? What's your Patronus?”

Newt smiled and waved his wand. A silvery silhouette began to take the general shape of a dog. Queenie studied the Patronus. “What is that?”

“A basset hound,” Newt responded. “My Patronus, and my mother's as well. It was an apt Patronus for her. When I was growing up, mum always kept a large flock of Hippogriffs very close to our house since she was always more comfortable around creatures than she was around humans.”

Queenie gave him a pointed look, gleaning more from his mind than he necessarily wanted her to know. She refrained from commenting.

“But enough about me,” Newt said. “Jacob, you once said that your recipes come from your grandmother.”

That was all the prompting Jacob needed to start telling them about how his grandmother had immigrated from Poland but kept her native country's recipes and always baked the best cakes in town, and how she had taught him the same. Queenie was hanging on to his every word, adoration in her eyes. Tina caught Newt's eyes and they shared an amused smile.

Life was good, Newt considered. Initially, he was not sure whether it had been a good idea to return to New York, but now, he could hardly recall the last time he had enjoyed himself so much talking to other people. Not since—

Not since Leta.

Newt shook his head to dispel the thought. The Goldstein sisters and Jacob were not Leta, but they were nevertheless unique in their own right, and Newt was truly grateful for their friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> It hit me halfway through the movie that I just couldn't detect any romantic feelings from Newt. I don't know whether that is because I'm ace/aro and just generally oblivious to these things, but I decided that Newt was asexual, and this fic was born.
> 
> The bulk of this fic is just one single conversation where Newt _does not shut up_. I tried to change subjects, but it was like writing Luna: they both just continue to babble. I guess I now know why she fit so perfectly in the Scamander family.
> 
> Did you catch that Star Trek reference?
> 
> In other news, I have been obsessing over the fact that James Madison was so freaking tiny (5'4 feet, or 163 cm), so expect some Jeffmads that address that.


End file.
